


worlds away

by writerforlife



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm obsessed with the phone Steve gave Tony, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels, and it shows, communication wins wars, just not this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerforlife/pseuds/writerforlife
Summary: Steve receives a phone call on the phone only Tony has the number to. Tony is not on the other side. Steve finds Bucky again. Bucky dies again.Steve Rogers, from the beginning to after Infinity War.





	worlds away

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on posting two fics before Endgame, this being one of them. The next will be a fic focusing on Peter and Tony!! I love hearing from readers, so please don't hesitate to hit me up in the comments :)

When Steve was sitting on a sagging bed in an aged Romanian motel, his phone rang. 

The phone only Tony had a number for. 

He stared at the device he’d carried for two years. Two  _ years _ , and Tony had never called, never texted. He knew the letter and phone were delivered, but he didn’t know if Tony had thrown them in the trash as soon as he opened the package. He’d contemplated calling Tony a thousand times, had even talked to Bucky about it, but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to dial the number and apologize. 

He’d meant it, though. 

If Tony ever needed him, he would come, with no questions, no hesitation. 

With a deep breath, he answered the call. 

“Tony?” Steve asked. 

Silence on the other end. Not what he expected.

“Tony?” He held the phone against his neck. “Sam! Natasha! Things,” he shouted. If Tony was calling  _ him _ , something was truly wrong. “Tony, are you okay?”

“Steve?”

It wasn’t Tony’s voice.

“Bruce?” Steve asked. 

“Oh, God, Steve, he’s gone, he’s gone and Thanos is coming. We need help.”

He stumbled back and sat down hard. “Bruce?”

“Are you, uh… somewhere where you can turn on the news? I don’t know about your situation, but…”

Steve switched on the motel TV to NBC. A female reporter spoke about an alien attack on New York. About Iron Man and Spider-Man boarding an alien ship and leaving the city.

About Tony being gone.

Disappeared. 

Maybe dead.

“He’s gone, Steve, out of the picture. This guy who’s behind the attack, he’s from up there. Thanos. Some crazy alien. He kicked the Hulk’s ass without breaking a sweat. He wants all the Infinity Stones.”

“Vision,” Steve said. 

“I know. He and Wanda were playing hooky, apparently. Can you find him?”

“We’re on it. We’ll meet you at the Compound.” 

“Steve?”

He remained silent, waiting for the question.

“What  _ happened _ ?” 

Steve closed his eyes, Siberian cold nearly tangible in his veins as Tony’s fists flew against his. “We had a falling out.” 

“A falling out where he didn’t feel like he could call you about the world ending?”

_ I hurt him,  _ Steve thought.

He thought of Bucky’s feral howl as Tony blasted his arm off.

_ I had no choice.  _

There was always a choice. 

“We’ll be there, Bruce. Don’t worry.” He hung up. The news about New York continued playing, much of it about Tony. He rubbed his face, hoping that perhaps it was a dream and he would wake soon, preferably next to Bucky. 

“Steve?” Sam called. “What do we got?”

But he never got what he wanted. Not really. 

“Suit up,” Steve said. “We have to find Vision.”

 

#

 

Only when they were en route to the Avengers Compound with Wanda and Vision did Steve think about Tony again. He sat removed from everyone else, a gnawing guilt in his stomach. He thought of Bucky tucked away in Wakanda. What he wouldn’t give to talk to him. What he wouldn’t give to apologize to Tony. 

What he wouldn’t give for a handful of second chances. 

“Heads up, Rogers.” Natasha sat down next to him. “You let me sneak up on you.” 

Steve tried to smile. It became a grimace. 

“They’re idiots for going off the grid like that,” she said. 

“They’re in love and wanted some time.” He knew how that felt, wanting more time. “It wasn’t smart, but I can’t fault them.” 

“What are you really thinking about?”  

“Did you know Tony was originally discarded for the Avengers Initiative?” 

“Yeah.” Natasha chuckled. “I was the one who recommended discarding him. It was just an idea, back then. There was no need for us, not really. Not in the way there is now.” 

Steve looked out at the dark expanse of sky. Tony was out there somewhere. Lost. Maybe dead. And Steve couldn’t do anything. “He was the best of us, and now he’s gone.” 

“Steve—”

“He knew, too. He knew something was coming, since Ultron. We didn’t listen.” 

“We didn’t.”

“And that was  _ wrong _ .” 

“You can’t dwell—”

“I’m not dwelling. I’m trying to… I’m trying to make this better.” He and Bucky had had a thousand different versions of this conversation, discussions about forgiveness and repenting. “We have to do what we can, and we  _ cannot  _ give up Vision.”

“I understand.” 

Steve couldn’t tell if she truly did. Vision was all that remained of Tony. Vision and Wanda were in love. He knew what it meant to protect the one you loved, damn the cost. 

What he wouldn’t give to have Bucky at his side.

“We’ll do all we can, Steve,” Natasha said.

He nodded. They would do all they could, and then some. 

 

#

 

Entering Wakanda, he couldn’t help but think of the last time he came alone and stayed for two weeks. He remembered sunlight streaming over Bucky’s bare stomach and fine strands of dark chest hair as Steve rested his head in the crook of Bucky’s neck, the blankets discarded. He remembered quiet moments together, either spent out in the fields or curled together on the couch before the TV. He remembered one particular night, rain pattering against the roof, Bucky’s body moving against his; they were both breathless, pressed together, as if the one moment could somehow recompense for the years they lost. 

He wished he was arriving for something similar. 

After greeting T’Challa and Okoye, he went inside with Bucky. Sam and Natasha went with Wanda and Vision to Shuri’s lab, but Bucky caught Steve’s wrist and dragged him into an abandoned corridor. 

“You look sad.” Bucky curled his fingers around Steve’s jaw. 

“We’re in a bad situation,” Steve replied.

“That means you’re angry, righteous, raring to go. What’s wrong?” 

Steve inhaled. “I think Tony is dead.”

Bucky looked away. 

“I never apologized. Never, and now he’s dead.”

“Steve—”

“I abandoned him. I abandoned the Avengers.” He pinched the bridge of his now and tried to inhale again. Shuddery. It felt like he had asthma again. “Buck—”

“Hey.” Bucky cupped the back of Steve’s neck and pulled him to his chest. Steve pulled Bucky as close as possible. With their bodies pressed together, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread, a voice urging him to take Bucky and  _ run _ . He’d never run from a fight, but he wondered what it would feel like to flee. Something was wrong about this, something was doomed, but he couldn’t find the words to say this. 

Bucky kissed him, deep and slow. “We’ll win,” he whispered when he pulled back. “Then we’ll come back here, and we’ll do all sorts of things. How’s that sound?”

Steve closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together. “I want that.”

“I know you do.” Bucky grinned and elbowed his gut playfully. “So let’s go win.”

#

 

Steve knew war intimately. War was war, even when the opponents came from outer space—he could take these goddamn aliens. Even so, he hated that he felt at home with his fists flying, sweat and blood running over his face. Bucky asked him, once, if he could walk away from the battles. Steve said that he couldn’t. Not when there were people suffering. 

Not when there were beings like Thanos. 

They fought. He grinned when Thor arrived. He met eyes with Bucky across the battlefield and marveled that they were fighting here,  _ together.  _ He protect Vision. He called the team to his as wind rippled through the leaves.   

Thanos was coming. 

Later, he caught Thanos’s gauntlet-covered hand and pushed, half-expecting to force the Titan back. Thanos cocked his head to the side, brow furrowed. Steve  _ pushed _ and bared his teeth, a cry ripping from his throat. Only he stood between Thanos and Vision. He had to protect Wanda. If Vision had to die, he would die on his own terms—by his own choice, by the hands of someone he loved. He would go as peacefully as possible. Hopefully Tony had, too. 

Thanos’s fist slammed against his face.

Darkness claimed his as he fell to the forest floor. 

 

#

 

Steve came to. 

Thanos was gone. 

His ears rang. Wanda was curled over Vision’s corpse, her hair curtaining her face. He stood next to Thor, heart pounding. He didn’t know where Thanos had gone, didn’t know where Sam was, didn’t know the consequences of—

“Steve?” 

He turned at Bucky’s soft call. 

Just in time to see Bucky turn to dust. 

Cries from the battlefield echoed through the trees, ringing in Steve’s ears. Bucky had turned to  _ dust _ . Ash floated down among the leaves, atop his fallen gun.  _ No.  _ He had to be dreaming.  _ No.  _ Not again. He couldn’t do this again. Not after the train. The helicarrier. Siberia. 

How many times did he have to lose Bucky?

He crouched next the dust and ran his fingers through it—through the remains of the man he loved. Somewhere, Okoye screamed. Rhodes called Sam’s name. 

Steve’s feet carried him away from the ash, toward Vision’s gray corpse. Wires protruded from the gaping hole in his forehead. Steve sat down—hard. Slowly, people gravitated to him. Natasha was behind him. Bruce in the HulkBuster suit. Thor holding his axe. Rhodey. Okoye. The racoon. He smelled smoke and death, and suddenly, he was in New York, ripping Tony’s facemask off as he laid prone on the streets, praying for him to breathe. 

Except Tony was gone, now, and they hadn’t won.

They’d lost. 

“Oh, God,” he whispered. 

_ Steve?  _ Bucky had called.  _ Steve?  _

They’d truly lost. 

 

#

 

It was hours before Steve returned to the palace. To a room. He hadn’t settled in, so a soldier took him to where Bucky had stayed. Upon walking inside, he’d seen the mussed sheets, Bucky’s traditional Wakandan clothes laid carefully over the chairs, and his sandals by the bed. His stomach lurched.  

He staggered to the bathroom and vomited.

Violently.

His knuckles bleached on the side of the toilet as he emptied his stomach, retches and sobs blending. He shifted when only bile left his mouth, leaning against the wall and wiping his mouth and beard with toilet paper. 

_ Bucky _ , he thought. It hurt viscerally.

He braced his hands on the countertop and forced himself to his feet. He looked into the mirror. Hunched shoulders. Sunken dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes. Ragged beard. Brilliant bruises crescendoing across his face. Shredded and filthy uniform. He dragged in a terrible breath.

Bucky would’ve hated seeing him like this. 

He sank to his knees, trying to scavenge all the jagged edges of his soul that spilled from his chest.  _ I can’t do this.  _ But he couldn’t be like this, couldn’t be broken. In the morning, people would look at him expectantly.

He didn’t know what to do. 

“Captain?” A knock came at his door. “Cap, you in there?” 

He couldn’t find the words to answer.

The door creaked open. Rhodes entered, lingering in the bathroom doorway. Steve appreciated that he didn’t comment on the stench of vomit. “Are you injured?” he asked. 

“No more than anyone else?” Steve replied. He cursed his own exhausted voice as he stumbled to his feet. He couldn’t sound like that. “What’s going on?”

“Easy there.” Rhodes held out his hands, and Steve realized every muscle in his body was tensed. Prepared to fight. “I just thought you should know…” Rhodes swallowed hard and blinked. “I thought… it’s about…” 

“Rhodes,” Steve said. 

“Tony.” Rhodes breathed his name out like a prayer. “We have to assume…” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I don’t think he’s coming back, Steve. I think he’s gone.”

Something fractured in Steve’s chest. 

“All we know is that he got on that… that flying donut, spaceship, whatever it was. I’m going to look. We didn’t think he would come back from Afghanistan, but I looked. Yet this feels…” He trailed off again, shoulders curled as he blinked rapidly. “I can’t deny that this feels different. I don’t see how he could be alive.”

“Rhodes—”

“I don’t blame you. I just thought you should know the odds.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry, Captain. About Wilson.” His gaze pierced him. “And Barnes.”

_ Bucky _ . He leaned against the countertop, head spinning. 

“I know he means a lot to you.”

“I didn’t think…” Bile rose in Steve’s throat. “You know, years back, with Ultron, he told me that whatever the hell was up there, that was it. That was the big threat. He said we’d lose, and I told him we’d do that together. I  _ told  _ him.” 

Rhodes looked at the floor, eyes bright. 

“Was he happy?” Steve blurted. “After Siberia, was he okay?”

“Steve,” Rhodes said. “You can’t—”

“Please.”

“I won’t lie, the first few weeks were rough. He wasn’t sleeping, wanted to sell the tower, kept having nightmares. Things changed eventually. He was smiling again, which was progress. He and Pepper got back together, I got the surgery I needed and was walking again. And then there was…” Rhodes’s voice broke. “The kid.”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat. “A kid?”

“God, he went with Tony. I need to check on the aunt. He probably…” Rhodes blinked away tears. “Spider-Man. Peter Parker. He’s sixteen now, fourteen at the airport. He’s a good kid. Peter brought Tony alive. I’d never seen him so happy. He would hate… he’d hate that Peter was gone, too.”

Steve retched and fell to his knees, vomiting again. His mouth tasted like ash and acid. When he finished, he leaned back and put his head between his knees. “Rhodes, I need to…”

“I know,” Rhodes said gently. “Take care, Captain.”

When Rhodes left, Steve began to cry. Tears ran down his face as he pressed his hands to his mouth. A kid. Sam. Tony. Bucky. 

_ God _ . 

He hadn’t believed in God for a long time. 

“I’ll save you,” he said aloud. He didn’t know which person he was speaking to, but it felt like a vow—of duty, of friendship, of brotherhood, of love. “Whatever it takes.”


End file.
